La Mia Boheme
by Sorinapha Fumiyo Benatar
Summary: Mark's nieces, Mia, Deila, Zaniah, and Agatha, come to Avenue A for Christmas, and find themselves in some of the most mature situations they've experienced. Can they conquer the evils of life in the adult world, or will they have to stay kids forever?


Author's Note: Okeydokey, couple of announcements. Firstly, this fanfiction moves the events of RENT to present-time, so don't ask why Deila's got a Nintendo DS in 1989. The only answer you'll ever get will be something like, "Why in the heck are you on a fanfiction website if you can't read?" Secondly, you're probably wondering who Deila is in the first place. This story is told (mostly) from the perspective of Deila and her sisters, Mia, Zaniah, and Agatha. They are little kids, so you may wonder why in the heck I'm writing about such a..._mature_ topic from the viewpoint of a 5-year-old, a 9-year-old, a 12-year-old, and a 15-year-old. Well, kids are getting exposed to adult situations every day, and I thought this would be something good to demonstrate that...and, I love RENT so freakin' much, I can't stand it!Just a warning: This will probably end up to be veeeeeeeeeeeeeery loooooooooooooong. As is demonstrated by this veeeeeeeeeeeeeery loooooooooooooong author's note. And the title...you'll understand later. Okay, okay, I'll shut up now and let you read the freaking story. One more thing-don't worry! This'll only be a second!-this chapter is reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally boring and has practically nothing to do with RENT except for references to Mark, so bear with me. Please! It'll get good eventually!

La Mia Boheme

By Sorinapha de l'aro

Chapter One: The Proverbial Flaming Train-Wreck (we call it Avenue A)

Agatha

"Ugh, stupid, stupid, _stupid_ train!!" I whined. "Deila, _pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease _let me play your DS!! I have nothing to doooooooooooooo!!"

"You could always read a book," hinted my sister, Zaniah. Little nerd. She was only five. Started reading at three. Was already reading books most 9-year-olds (like me) couldn't yet. Uncle Mark thought she was the coolest thing ever. At least Roger still likes me...

"Geek," I muttered.

"_Blondie._" She was hitting below the belt now...I jumped up to wrench the book from her hands, but an elbow knocked me back into my seat.

"Okay, both of you, can it, and put it on the grocery-store shelf, got it?" My 15-year-old sister, Mia, frowned at us from behind her brand-new, hot-pink digital video camera with mismatched patterns of polka dots and stripes scribbled on it with black Sharpie. (Dad said she's getting more like Mark every day...) "We'll be off this Hell's chore in about 30 minutes unless Pearl Harbor repeats itself at Avenue A, so you can pipe down till then, right? Or will I have to hit you over the head with a lead pipe?"

"Er...hopefully, it won't go _that _far." My 12-year-old sister, Deila, the Wielder of the Magical Black DS Lite, tried to soothe her. She was the peacemaker of us all. She was halfway through her seventh-grade year, and I absolutely _envied _her. Long, curly dark brown hair, light green-blue eyes, and plus, Uncle Mark loved her. She always said stuff like, "Oh, Aggie, Mark loves you, too!" whenever I whined to her about it, but she only said that because she was trying to be nice.

"Hopefully...but it just _might," _Mia hinted, noticing my eyes shooting daggers at "little Zaniah." She saw something in the window that made her smile, then suddenly, she jumped up, her light brown-and-black hair nearly falling out of its messy bun. She jumped onto her seat to reach the cargo compartment, shoved her camera into her favorite light blue cargo messenger bag's front pocket, and knocked Deila's suitcase into the seat next to her.

"Uhmmmm...Mia...are you OK?" Zaniah put her book away into her little purse.

"Hell _yeah_ I'm OK!!" Mia pulled down my big pink tote bag next, and tossed it into my lap. "We're _off _this would-be train-wreck!!" I whirled around, and sure enough, the familiar subway walls were giving way to the train station. As we got our bags ready, I was vaguely reminded of 2:55 at school, watching the clock, the intense anticipation of almost being _free. _

As we were getting off the train, ready to head for Mark's apartment, I noticed Mia pull out her camera again.

"Whatcha got that out again for?" I asked her.

A very familiar, devious smile spread across her face, and she tapped her black-painted nails against the camera in a very familiar way. "I have one of those feelings...something _big_'s going to happen on Avenue A. Uncle Mark won't have his camera to tape it so I'll do it for him...after all, it'd just be too bad for him not to have this for his documentary..."

Mia

I firstly made sure my camera was turned _on._ Me and Uncle Mark both had had way too many "oops, the camera was off" moments, and I _couldn't _miss this shot. I rushed down Avenue A, and sure enough, there was my shot.

My camera was on, the sky was raining fire, and I was ready to _rock!_

"Oh, my _God!! _What in the _world _has he started now?!" Agatha was completely in shock, and she pulled the hood of my Brigham Young jacket up over her strawberry-blonde curls.

"Looks like a fire to me." Deila shrugged. She was never surprised by the crap Mark and Roger started.

I taped every second, devouring it, even taking in the little things. I zoomed in on the flames, so far in that I could see that they were pieces of paper; screenplays, posters, books...Oh, _fuck. _Zaniah would die; someone was burning a copy of _Sarah, Plain and Tall! _

"Hey, look! It's Uncle Mark! And Roger!" Zaniah pointed up to the balcony, and sure enough, Mark and Roger were dumping an orange trash-can's worth of flaming papers onto the street below.

"Oh, shoot! Thanks for pointing 'em out!!" I aimed my camera up and zoomed in a flash, too damn quickly to miss a second. I went down a little, far enough to see the chick in a leopard-print coat right underneath them, sitting on the rail and smoking a cigarette. She looked like the kind of girl Roger would hit on, and Uncle Mark would spend all day swooning over but never actually talk to. A guy in a red jacket with a pair of drumsticks in his right hand pointed up to her, in a "hey, whattup, girlfriend" kind of gesture. She smiled down at him; I guessed they went way back. Not like exes, but old, old friends or something. I managed to catch that, too. I noticed a black car drive up past us, and a bald dude got out, and people that had once been casually stumbling around gathered around him, shouting something in unison.

"Oh, holy _shit!_" Benny was gonna get killed!! I pointed the camera toward the place where he stood. I wondered if it'd be illegal to post this on YouTube...oh. Right. First Amendment. I'm in the clear...

"Anyway!" Agatha was obviously trying to get me back to reality, and out of my mental ramblings. Sadly for her, she wasn't succeeding. "Let's head over to the apartment. Unless Dad forgot to call him, he probably has no clue why we're not there yet."

"You forget," Zaniah corrected, "that he knows Mia can't let go of her camera at times like these."

"Good point, but I'm cold."

"Touché... C'mon, big sissy! Let's go!!" Zaniah tugged at my hand, even harder when I wouldn't even look at her.

Deila rolled her eyes. "I'll get the girls to the apartment and tell Mark where you are, OK?"

I was so glad Deila could take a hint. "Sure."

She pulled my messenger bag off my right shoulder, and slung it over her left one, the straps of my bag and hers crisscrossing over each other.

"Hey, thanks."

"No prob, just be back to get it in 20 minutes or everything in it is mine."

I rolled my eyes. So typical of Deila to act like a tough girl.

I taped them walking away for no particular reason, and then went back to my world.

Deila

"Okay, Agatha, you know the drill. You too, Zaniah."

"Yup."

I dialed the number on my cell phone, and heard Mark and Roger's voices in unison: "Speeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak."

Well, we didn't exactly speak. We screamed.

"OPEN THIS FREAKIN DOOR NOWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!"

The door swung open, and Roger stood there, with a confused look on his face.

"What happened? There's supposed to be four of you. And I don't think I'm _that _bad at math..."

"She's having another love affair with her video camera," I muttered, slinging my and Mia's bags onto the couch as I spoke, walking past him.

He looked unsurprised. "We gave her a good shot, huh?"

"Yup." Agatha agreed, wandering down the hall to find her usual room.

That was when Uncle Mark came in from the balcony, looking exactly like I remembered him; blonde hair, glasses, the usual scarf. He hugged me tightly, then Zaniah.

"I missed you guys..." He went to hug Mia, and, a few seconds later, realized he was hugging air. "Um. She got her Christmas present, huh..."

"Yeah, and you might have to get her a new one tomorrow." Zaniah made a face with mock sadness. "It'll probably be dead from exhaustion by then."

He laughed, and mussed her dark brown curls. "Good to have you guys back."

I smiled, giving him another hug. "Good to be back."


End file.
